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Sunday, 17 June 2012

Father's Day

It is technically Father's Day and time to write this post! (I apologize for the messy scribbley drawings, it's late!) (or early).

For those that don't know, I come from a large family, (12) of which my twin sister and I are the final masterpieces (you might say). I grew up with adoration in my heart for every one of my older brothers and sisters and would do -pretty much- anything that would gain me some status in their eyes. But I already knew I had status in my Dad's eyes.

One of my favourite baby pictures is of my Dad (younger and moustachioed) with a plump curly twin in each arm, laughing as we both bat at his face. We both looked so excited to be with Daddy and he was obviously delighted with us.

And one of my favourite memories, one that has always stood out, is one day when for some reason I went to work with my Dad. I don't remember a lot of the details. I don't remember why I was there, but I DO remember that it was one of the funnest days of my childhood. I remember being at Dad's office and he gave me a fluorescent pair of star-shaped sunglasses (there was nothing I loved better than anything fluorescent). And we went to Dairy Queen. And when we walked to his car, he told me how you had to step on only the cracks in the road or the crocodiles would get you.

I was absolutely sure he was the best Dad ever.

Little girls grow up and become rotten teenagers, it's just the way the world works (or so I tell myself when I begin to feel guilty). But under all the teenage angst I was still a child who adored her Dad.
We had certain rituals we used to play out, always the same way. Like how I would casually steal food from Dad's plate at the dinner table and he would put on a show of being outraged. But then I would reach for my water glass just as he finished it off with greedy, unapologetic gulps.

There was one time also that I will never forget...it was when my Dad was driving me to work, at my first job at Tim Horton's. We were late and I was putting on my shoes and socks in the car as Dad sped to get me there on time. Only--I must have dropped one of my socks in the driveway, because I only had one!

"Dad I only have one sock!" I panicked. I couldn't work an 8 hour shift with one bare foot sweating and sliding around in my shoe. It was too gross.

Dad thought fast.

We were coming up to a red light. Without saying anything, Dad put the car in park, opened his car door, and began to take off his shoe.

His sock was giant and bulky, but my Dad, as a business man, is always clean so it wasn't gross and sweaty or anything. (thank goodness)

All the rest of the day at work I felt a warm glow. I knew my Dad would go through great lengths for me and his funny small little gesture made me feel loved and special.

There are lots of great Dads out there, but I am happy that I got the one I did. You couldn't ask for a better one.